Impact
by TarlsBlack
Summary: Kensi goes through a traumatic experience and pulls away from everyone around her. Who will be able to help her? Kensi OneShot. Warning: sexual assault, rape, violence, trauma, PTSD. Rated T for subject matter. Enjoy the story!


**Hey guys, this is just a little Kensi Oneshot. I love Kensi a lot and decided a story like this was perfect for her.**

 **I also thought I'd mention that I'm writing an NCIS story for NCISFanMcGee and I'm really excited for it, as it is an awesome idea from them. :)**

 **If you recognise it, it's not mine. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **PROLOGUE**

The alley reeked of old garbage and dead rodents, and I cowered in the corner. I heard gunfire and my attacker landed half a metre away from me, blood spattering all over my naked body. I pulled my gun from his un – moving body and held it out in front of me. My hands were shaking and I knew that if I had to shoot, my aim would be way off, and I would not hit my target.

I saw a figure coming towards me and I recognised them as Callan. I dropped my gun and curled up further to hide my body from someone I respected so much. Although I knew he wouldn't judge me for such immodesty, as he knew my attacker was responsible, I was still uncomfortable with him seeing me so vulnerable. He came closer and knelt down in front of me, tucking his gun into the back of his jeans.

"Are you OK Kens?" He asked. I nodded slightly, wincing at the pain shooting through my body. He glanced at my legs, and closed his eyes, only for a second. He spoke again, "Hetty, I found her. We're going to need an ambo. I don't want to move her."

"I'm fine." I said softly. He smiled and shook his head at me. He put his hand on my leg, and I gave in. I knew he wasn't going to let me move. He took his jacket off and spread it over me. It helped me feel safer, and more comfortable, albeit slightly. I shivered; it was a cold day out. I heard the sirens before I saw the ambulance racing down the street. They screeched to a halt in front of the alley and the paramedics rushed towards us. The man knelt down in front of me, but when my eyes widened and I whispered, "No, please no" he stood and the woman knelt in front of me instead.

 **Chapter 1**

I sat up in the hospital bed and glanced around. Wires and tubing were threaded in and around my body and there was a small table with some soup on it. I reached to pull the table over to me, and tried a spoonful of the soup. It wasn't great, but it was better than nothing. It had been two weeks since my attack and I had been in hospital the whole time. They'd run a multitude of tests, and fed me full of drugs, to heal my bruised ribs and sprained ankle.

"Ma'am, there's a Detective Deeks here to see you. Shall I let him in?" A female nurse in blue scrubs asked. I was still anxious around men and they had accommodated my fears by having female nurses and doctors attend to me. I had also forced them to promise to ask me if I wanted to see anyone who came to visit. I shook my head at her, and she opened her mouth to speak again, but thought better of it, nodded and left.

"You have to see him sooner or later." A small statured woman came into view and I put the spoon I was holding down.

"Hetty." I said, watching her walk towards me.

"They told me you can go home." She stated, ignoring the fact that I had addressed her.

"Have you found out who those guys were? Why they were after my undercover alias?" I asked, desperate to know information. I had been on an undercover operation when I had been pulled into an alley from behind and attacked. They seemed to know a lot about my undercover alias, and I hadn't had a clue why.

"They were Russian operatives. They'd heard you were an ambassador for the U.S. going to Russia soon, and they wanted to scare you into not going, afraid you were in bed with the F.B.I. and going to find out about their trafficking." She replied. I pushed the covers off myself and flicked my legs off the bed. I had been wearing normal clothes for the last week, so it was a simple task to just grab my jacket and phone and leave the hospital. I knew Hetty had already signed my discharge papers and I could just leave. I didn't reply to the information she had supplied me, although I did nod. I started out of the room and she followed me all the way out of the hospital. I then realised that I had no way home.

"Would you mind - ?" I asked, but she cut me off.

"I can take you home." She said. We started towards her car, when I saw that there was someone in the front seat.

"You didn't." I said, stopping a few metres away from my shaggy haired partner. She smiled slyly and looked up at me.

"He's worried about you, Miss Blye." She said. I knew that he was, but I didn't want to see him. I stepped into his line of sight and he opened his door. He came towards me and I flinched when he touched my arm. He frowned and glanced at Hetty.

"You OK, Kens?" He asked seriously. He was more serious right at that moment than I'd heard him ever be before.

I nodded, "Yeah of course. I just want to get home." I replied, shooting him a smile. He frowned again, but nodded and let me sit in the front. He sat in the middle of the back, drumming beats on the back of the seats and singing a tune I didn't know. Hetty drove in silence and I chose not to speak either, instead listening to Deeks' song.

She stopped in my driveway and I jumped out, walking as fast as I could towards my house. I hadn't even bothered to thank her. As I shut my door and locked the deadbolts I'd had installed a few years previously, I saw Deeks stop and stare at me, stunned at the fact I hadn't left the door open for him to enter behind me. Out of my window I could see him watch my house for a moment longer and then turn and go back to the car. He opened the front door and got in the passenger side. The car reversed and left my driveway, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

 **Chapter 2**

I stared at the bottle of sleeping pills in my hands. The doctor had prescribed them to me after correctly guessing that I hadn't slept for the first three days out of sedation at the hospital. I threw them across the room and stood from my lounge. I glanced around at the mess in my house and turned on the light. It was pitch black outside, and I decided that I needed to clean. I grabbed cleaning supplies out of the hall cupboard and made my way to the bathroom. I sprayed some cleaner into the shower, put some gloves on and got on my hands and knees. I scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed, and noticed that it wasn't getting any cleaner, but my hands were getting redder. My phone rang and I pulled a glove off to check it. Realising it was Deeks, again, I rejected the call and got back to cleaning.

I glanced at my phone when another call came through. I had been scrubbing the same spot in my shower for over three hours.

"It's not going to help, you know." I grabbed my gun from the floor next to me, jumped up, turned around and held it in front of me, ready to shoot. When I realised it was Hetty, I lowered my weapon, but kept the gun in my hand. I sighed.

"You scared me Hetty." I told the older woman. I stepped past her and made my way to the loungeroom, where I sat down. She stood in the doorway of the hall we had just come down and watched me intently.

"I've asked Mr Getz to come and speak with you, at the boatshed today at midday. Be there, Miss Blye. He can help you," She said. I nodded. I just wanted her to leave. She smiled and I could see her mind ticking over. It was obvious that she knew I hadn't slept. It was daylight now and I had not even crawled into bed, knowing that if I could even get to sleep, I'd be plagued by nightmares and there'd be no point. She walked over to my front door and paused, "I will see you soon Miss Blye." And with that, she left.

It was midday and I was standing at the door to the boat shed, my hand on the handle. I feel the cool metal in my palm and I turn it, but before it clicked open, I let it lock again. I stood there, staring at the door for what felt like an eternity. I sighed deeply and turned away. I walked back to my car and got in the driver's seat. As I turned the key in the ignition and the engine sputtered to life I wondered where I was going to go. I knew that Nate would be able to find me if I went home, or back to OSP so I chose to go to the only other place I felt safe.

I sat next to the grey gravestone and smiled.

"Hey Dad." I said. I ran my hand over the old stone and felt instantly closer to the man who had raised me. I heard a noise and looked over to see a bird hopping between the graves towards me. It stopped at my father's grave and looked up at me, then flew away. I glanced back at the grave and traced the words on the gravestone.

"You miss him don't you?" I immediately shot up, yanking my gun in front of me. It was only Nate though and I lowered my weapon, shoving it back into my jeans.

"You found me." It wasn't a question, but a statement, and anger dripped from my words. I hadn't wanted to see him, not after being so weak that I couldn't enter a place that I felt safe. He watched me intently as I fiddled with my hair.

"Yeah." He said after a while.

"I came. But I couldn't come in." I said, lowering my eyes. I sat back down next to my father's gravestone and traced the words again. I heard a rustling and knew it was Nate stepping closer to me. He knelt beside me in the piles of leaves and put his hand on my leg. I jumped back to my feet and backed away from him.

"Its men isn't it? Making you afraid?" He asked calmly. I nodded slowly. I bit my lip to prevent myself from crying and I turned away from him, just for a second, to compose myself. When I turned back, I noticed that he hadn't moved from the ground, and I knew this was a tactic to make me more comfortable.

"I'm not crazy." I said. He chuckled and shook his head. I saw his eyes move quickly to glance at the gravestone again.

"You aren't crazy." He confirmed.

"I'm just… scared." I said, finally admitting not just to him, but also to myself, how I was feeling.

"Scared of what?" He asked. I walked back over to him and sat again next to my father's grave, crossing my legs before I spoke.

"Everything. Men. Losing myself. Sleeping. I'm scared I'll go back to being street Kensi. I miss my father. I know I have PTSD. I have all the usual signs." I said.

"Experience?" He asked. I smirked.

"I know you've read my file. I know Hetty told you. I know you know about Jack." I said. He nodded.

"That I do."

"I'm scared that I'm…" I trailed off, "That I'm…" I tried again, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't say it. Instead I simply said, "I'm late." And he understood exactly what I was saying.

"Pregnant," He supplied the answer, and when I didn't respond, he continued, "You need to get tested. Rape is a - "

"Do _not_ say that word." I said angrily. I had cut him off and I didn't care. I hadn't said the r word and nobody had said it to me. It was an unspoken rule in the hospital, and as I'd seen almost no one since my attack, nobody had said it to me.

"Why?" He asked.

"Because," I said, tears starting to fall, "Then it's real."

 **Chapter 3**

It was the next night and I was lying on my lounge trying to sleep. Nate had given me relaxation techniques and meditation therapies to try to help me sleep, but it wasn't working. I heard a knock on the door and I stood wearily. I caught a look at myself in the mirror. I had bags under my eyes and my skin had paled to a point that I looked gaunt and I no longer recognised myself as Agent Kensi Blye. I opened to door to my shaggy haired partner holding a small shopping bag. He pushed past me into the lounge room and flicked on the light. He put the bag on my coffee table and revealed its contents: my favourite icecream, spoons, popcorn, my favourite movie 'Titanic' and a six pack of beer cans. He pushed the DVD into the player and made himself comfortable on my lounge, turning the TV on and setting it to his perfect volume. He opened a beer and offered it to me.

I sat next to him and took it. He opened another beer for himself and handed me a spoon and the icecream container. I put the container between us on the lounge and he pressed play. The opening sequence to 'Titanic' blasted through my speakers and I snuggled on my lounge pulling a blanket over me.

"Thanks Deeks." I mumbled. He just smiled, rather than make a smart ass remark like he usually would. He knew I needed time to recover and heal and he was letting me do just that. He whispered something about the night I had gone to his house after he was tortured, but I didn't get a chance to answer, as before I knew it, I was curled up on my partner asleep.


End file.
